Feminine Attributes
by Katowisp
Summary: Al recovers his body through a poker game Ed played with the Gate. The brothers decide to make good on their promise to see Ling and bring Roy along with them. But a gamble is a gamble, and Ed gets more than he gambled for.


It was in May, when Ed and Al came back. The flowers were in bloom, the grass was green, and all signs of snow were long gone.

At least, that's what Ed would have wished. Instead, it was February, and there were five feet of snow on the ground as they trudged their way to the Rockbell's house. Ed had to don his Northern wear and arm, but Al was quite happy to prance, as it were, in the snow, until Ed made him put on some clothes, too. Firstly, he was worried that Al would catch frostbite, secondly, he thought it was weird to watch his brother prance in the snow, and thirdly, and worst, he found that his brother had somehow gotten to be better endowed than he. And that was in the cold.

"You'll catch your death out here." Edward said darkly, throwing clothes at Al. Al responded happily.

"But I can _feel_ it. I can _feel_ the frostbite. I can _feel _the pneumonia I'll get!"

"Just put on the damn clothes, Al!"

It was to everyone's great disappointment that when Ed was able to get Al's body back, his own limbs didn't come with it. But after about five minutes of depression, Ed moved on. It gave him a hell of an advantage in most things, and he realized that he'd had his arm destroyed countless times already. Better for it to be metal and replaceable, anyway.

Winry was probably the happiest that Al was back, and her eyes lit up every time she saw the pair together. Soon, it was hard not to see her with largely, googly eyes, and Edward found that she was beginning to get a bit frightening. He and Al would be eating, and she'd peer around the door in the kitchen, and just stare at them with largely, watery eyes. Ed would comment on it, and she would quietly slip back into the kitchen. She persisted in this strangeness, and Ed was beginning to wonder if she'd gone soft in the head. Privately, she was very happy that she had Ed as a customer for the rest of her life. The military paid well, and with the rate of destruction that that arm went through, the Rockbell Automail Business would be _very_ well off. She and Pinako could get that extension they always talked about.

Auntie Pinako, for her part, took it all in stride. She had simply stood on the front porch as they came home, her pipe clasped in her teeth. "How'd you boys do it?"

"You know. Stuff," Edward replied vaguely, waving his real arm to help demonstrate 'stuff'. Pinako assumed it had been a harrowing experience, and that the boys didn't want to talk about it. In reality, Ed was embarrassed by its ease. He'd simply had to win a poker game against The Gate. What the Gate wasn't counting on was Ed's expertise in cheating, and it didn't figure it out until Ed and Al were long gone. (Ed decided not to push his luck—or his cheating skill—by bargaining for his own limbs.)

"So what are you boys going to do now that you've gotten back to normal?"

"We were thinking about visiting a friend we met—he's from Xing. We heard it's very hot there right now."

And so they left again.

As they were heading out of Central, they ran into a certain Roy Mustang, who brought it to their attention that they were AWOL, and it would be in their best interest to report in right away. They said they were on a top-secret mission to Xing, and not anybody, not even their commanding officer knew about this.

"Who assigned this?"

"I did." Edward responded archly. Mustang quirked an eyebrow.

"I'll go with you. I'm sure nobody really wants to leave you unguarded in a country that we are only beginning to build ties with."

"I don't need any kind of guard!"

"I'm not worried about _you_. We're finally entering a period of peacetime." And Mustang left the rest unsaid. Edward scowled heavily. "Besides! I heard that the country is largely filled with tiny-stature people. You'll fit right in."

"And there's lots of attractive women," Alphonse added, a grin plastered on his face. He was much taller than his brother now, and he easily held off Edward's attacks by putting a hand on his head.

"Indeed, I've heard that as well. I think we will all be enjoying our stay."

Al enjoyed the desert as much as he enjoyed Resembool's snow. As his brother suffered endlessly in the day from the heat on his metal limbs, and again in the night as the temperature dropped to nearly freezing, Al talked nearly nonstop.

"I can't believe it's so hot! It's fantastic! I mean—I've got a sunburn!" And on the fourth day—"Look! My skin is peeling!" And he talked about all his bodily functions. "I haven't gone pee in eight hours—I guess I'm dehydrated! But I can feel thirsty—isn't that amazing?"

"I don't remember him being so talkative." Mustang said to Ed, who was an angry bundle of sweat and burning. He couldn't even touch his own limbs during the daytime, no matter how well he covered them up.

"He never was," Ed ground out. Mustang looked over at Al again, and couldn't repress a tiny smile. The boy's racket could be annoying, but it was endearing, in a way. Like a baby that realized all it had, and appreciated it. Besides, he couldn't deny either…

"I think he's built better than you." Mustang said quietly. Ed shot him a look, his golden eyes darkening.

"I don't want to hear about it!" Ed yelled, hitting Mustang. It caught him in such a way that he fell right off the horse. He rode the rest of the journey nearly entirely in silence, due to his newly broken jaw. Ed considered using the same treatment on Al, especially as he pattered on about the amazingness of the body as it swells up in response to scorpion stings.

Once in Xing, finding Ling was hardly a problem. His family had, unsurprisingly, risen to the top, and Ling was enjoying being emperor. He had a large, courtyard house, several pets, and one of those large, strange cats that Mei had had. He welcomed them with open arms.

"Ed! And you must be Al! And Mustang—it's a pleasure to see all of you! I know it's been a hard journey—that desert is unforgiving. Come in and enjoy some tea." Ling said, ushering them into his courtyard garden. Servants shuffled in, dropping tea down.

"This tea is _hot_!" Ed said in alarm, staring at the tea angrily. Ling looked at him strangely.

"Naturally. We live near a desert. What else would it be?"

"What are the types of regions you have, here in Xing?" Mustang asked curiously, taking a demure sip from the steaming tea with teeth clenched forcefully by his broken jaw.

"Well, this arid region, clearly. But the east and south are largely forested--more deciduous in the northeast, and tropical in the southeast. We have a coastline that is incredibly popular, with the best food in the country, and sparkling blue oceans."

"Why aren't we _there_?" Edward asked petulantly.

"Because we just aren't." Ling said crossly.

"Besides, all that water would make you rust, brother," Alphonse pointed out, taking a small, squishy item from the offered sweets. He looked around shiftily and leaned into his brother. "I think you could've tried one more hand for your limbs."

"It's okay. I didn't want to lose you again." Ed said honestly. He realized, however, after a moment, that Ling and Mustang had fallen quiet during their whispered conversation and were now looking at them intently.

"That's right—you still have your metal limbs." Ling noticed. "What if we could help you out with that? And we might be able to do something about your jaw, too," Ling said, motioning to Mustang's clenched jaw. Mustang's face brightened considerably.

"How could you do that?"

"Rentanjutsu. We use it mostly for healing, over here on this side of the desert."

"And you can get my limbs back?"

"Well, we can try. I will take us to my great grandfather."

Ling lead them through a fair amount of passages and courtyards before they finally arrived at a small house, not attached to the others. It had a symbol on its front door—completely indecipherable to the brothers and Mustang, and a small roof. In comparison, the house was grittier than the surrounding compound, and Ling rolled his eyes. "He says it's 'truer' this way." Ling muttered, knocking on the door. After a moment, an incredibly old man answered the door, and peered out at them. He had so many lines on his face, that any emotion he made was indecipherable.

"White people!" The man muttered to Ling. "Haven't had them in these parts for a long, long time. Are they trying to colonize us?"

"No, grandfather. One of them just lost his arm and leg, and I thought you could help him get them back. The other has a broken jaw."

"And then colonization?"

"No, grandfather!"

"What's he saying?" Edward asked curiously. Ling flashed him an open smile.

"He'll be glad to help." And he shuffled them into the cramped house.

The inside of the house was dark; the only light that came in was through the thin, slatted windows cut into the dark wood. There were scrolls hanging from nearly all the walls, with the curly, indecipherable script written across them. Edward liked to imagine they were stories of Ling's family, or the history of Xing. The most impressive, in fact, was actually just the recipe to a dish that Ling's grandfather particularly liked.

Ling decided not to share this, when Edward asked him.

Just as they were settling around a round table, there was a knock at the door. Ling got up to answer it, and his little sister stood looking up at him. "Baohan?" He asked.

"Xiaoyu said you were here. I wanted to see."

"I didn't say that!" Xiaoyu, slightly older, said as he leaned in, "I just said it was possible."

"How many people did you tell this to?"

"The entire family." Xiaoyu said sheepishly. And as Ling looked up, all the faces of his family members began popping up in the windows, making the house considerably darker. Ling sighed.

"I guess we should take this outside."

So the Amestrins, Ling, and his grandfather, settled outside at a marble table. The grandfather nodded, and talked to Ling for a long time about the flowers growing in the courtyard, and how this would probably be a drought year, and it would do well to start irrigating them as soon as possible.

"What's he saying?" Al asked, anxiously.

"He's talking about flowers."

"Oh. Are the flowers going to help us?"

"No, but if we're not careful, they might dry out." Ling responded truthfully.

"…Oh." Al finally said.

Ling's grandfather carefully lifted a highly decorated cup to the table, and looked intently at Edward. After a moment, he ceremoniously shook the cup, and then opened it downward. One, lone die came tumbling out.

"What is that? What's that mean?" Ed asked. "Is this some sort of future-telling device?"

"No, it's just dice. That's how we do rentanjutsu. With dice."

"No way! I saw that little girl drawing circles!" Al protested. The dice slowly landed onto a twelve.

"That's _her_ type of rentanjutsu. We can do that too, so that people take us seriously. But we found this form works better. We'll pretend to make a circle, but just roll the die. Anyway, if you _really_ want to get what you want, it's all chance anyway. I heard that's how you got Al back—through cards? That's what alchemy really is. Luck.

"Well, what's a nineteen mean?!" Ed asked, highly alarmed. There was a pop, and suddenly his arm was back. Ed blinked rapidly, and felt down to where his fleshy leg was. An expression of wonderment swept over his face.

"It means it succeeded." Ling said simply, with a smile. His grandfather gathered up the die, and rolled again. This time, it landed on a one, and the entire family gasped. Ed paled.

"What's that mean?"

"Oooo, it means it's a failure!" There was another audible pop, and Ed was left with a delicate woman's arm. Edward's mouth dropped open, and his raised his arm. It had a silver bracelet with green gems dangling from it, and delicate, manicured nails painted to match the gem. His thumb had a large flower painted on it.

"Oh _no!_" Edward yelled, flailing his arms frantically. "Get it off, get it off!" But no matter how hard he tried, the arm remained a part of his flailing. He looked at his brother frantically. Mustang had his hands clasped to his jaws, as if hiding his own injury so that the grandfather wouldn't try his gander at fixing it. "Can we fix this?!" Edward asked in panic.

"Er," Ling said, "Hm." And he asked his grandfather. The grandfather hemmed and hawed for a bit, only serving to heighten Ed's alarm. He realized that not understanding the language was only funny for a bit, and then it grew tiresome. He had the feeling that half the time, he was being made fun of—and with a women's arm, how could he _not_ be?! Finally, Ling's grandfather spoke.

"What's he say?"

"That maybe we can try tomorrow. If he rolls badly again, he does not want to strain your body."

And so it was that Edward Elric spent a day with a woman's arm. Pale, delicate, and with fingernails painted green. When they finally got things back to normal the day after that (The second day, Edward spent with an Octopus tentacle, and none of the girls would go near him.) Mustang made the point, through clenched teeth, that at least he'd gotten a flesh arm back. However, the wonders of rentanjutsu never crossed the Great Desert, and its secrets never permeated into Amestrin culture.

End

The courtyard house I have in my mind for Ling is based off Confucious' house in Qufu, China. Naturally, that place would be too small, but hey.

This was done in response to a April Fools Request over in 7sins, the FMA alchemy community on lj.

www.livejournal. is my lj, if you're interested in checking our my drabbles!


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